


Sweet Dreams

by Raynebow_of_the_Rising_Sun



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-25 21:12:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14985689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raynebow_of_the_Rising_Sun/pseuds/Raynebow_of_the_Rising_Sun





	1. Chapter 1

There are reasons I don't watch horror films or mob movies. Why I stick to light hearted entertainment like romcoms and fluffy family films.

Have you ever had one of those dreams where you have to pee really really badly and you absolutely cannot find a working restroom? Then you wake up and realize you're about to explode from the need to pee irl? 

My dreams are too real. Way too real. When I dream of a movie or t.v. show, which is shockingly often, I don't just dream… I become part of the story. A real part of the story. I'm usually the female lead in my favorite tales and for a while I thought that was cool. Until I dreamed I was Sarah Conner and woke up with a laundry list of injuries… her injuries from the original 'Terminator' movie. 

That wasn't cool.

Thank god I wasn't also pregnant with Kyle Reece's child!

I started being far more choosey about my entertainment after that.

I channeled my need for sci-fi through Star Trek and Star Wars. I can't tell you how many times I've been Princess Leia, or Beverly Crusher or Deanna Troi. Hundreds probably… and I loved every minute of it. 

Han! Dear God, that man is a work of art. We've had some great times together over the years… scenes that were never filmed or written… I wont elaborate but I will say : Daaaaaamn, real Leia, why'd you let him go?

So, you can imagine my reluctance to even watch the sequel trilogy... seeing my Han all old and stuff, possibly to never be able to see him young again in my dreams…

But curiousity got the better of me. I had to see it.

Imagine my shock when I woke up as some tall skinny 19 year old, strapped to a table with a masked murderer staring at me, getting all up in my space and terrifying me… and later having to face my Han's older version's death. I was so shaken I never watched it again… 

Kylo Ren haunted my nightmares for three nights after one viewing and that was three nights too many.

I mourned Han's loss as if he had been real, because to me, he was.

It took me years to get over his senseless murder. Two years, in fact. No matter how many times I rewatched the original trilogy my sleep remained dreamless. I haven't dreamt of being Leia since I watched The Force Awakens. That chapter of my life is over. I cannot revisit it now.

I never intended to watch The Last Jedi, for obvious reasons. Never would have… but somehow I found myself trapped in an inescapable situation... with The Last Jedi playing via bluray... In my Doctor's office waiting room.

I tried very hard not to watch it… but I failed miserably. It's a fantastic movie and it freed me from my terror of Kylo Ren… but the dreams. Oh, God, the dreams…

******

I woke up to somebody shaking my shoulder and calling me by the wrong name.

"Rey, we're here." Came a husky female voice. "We've landed."

I opened my eyes and blinked up at Leia. She looked exhausted and tension rolled off of her in waves. I glanced around shocked to find myself slouched in the co-pilot's seat aboard the Millenium Falcon.

I came alert far more quickly that I ever have in my real life. "What's wrong?" I ask her, slightly panicked to realize I was in an unwritten/unfilmed scene that was happening after the escape from Crayt. 

*Bleh* I thought, *I would have to be stuck with a British accent.*

"Nothing." She said tiredly. "Nothing's wrong. I…" her shoulders slumped and she sat down in Chewie's vacant seat and turned it toward me. "I'd like to talk to you, privately, if you have a minute."

The anguish rolling off of her brought tears to my eyes and somehow I knew exactly what she wanted to talk to me about. Her son. Ben.

But how could I, an imposter, possibly speak to her about him? How could I even agree to such a conversation, at a later time, on Rey's behalf? 

"Leia…" I hessitated, unsure of what to say. "I know you miss him terribly…" *How can I put this? I really can't talk about him with her.*

The pain in her eyes made me feel like a monster. I could fill her up with hope, tell her my Reylo theories, but what if I'm wrong? What if he really can't be redeemed?

Then I remember… Carrie Fisher died. Leia wont live to see me be right or wrong.

I avoid her eyes and relent. "Leia…" I say quietly, not wanting to be overheard. "Ben is very confused right now but he will come around, sooner rather than later."

A spark of hope kindled inside of her... clearly visible in her deep brown eyes. "That's what I keep hoping for." She nearly starts crying.

I reach out and squeeze her hand. "I promise you, he's going to see the light." It didn't feel like a false promise… I prayed that it wasn't. "He…" I take a deep breath and start again. "He's hurting very very badly, but he's never had such a good reason to reexamine his life and his choices."

She looks at me in a way that reminds me of how Ben had looked at Rey during their second Force bond. "You do know, then…" her posture relaxes and the tension leaves her face entirely.

"I know that he's always felt inadequate… afraid that he couldn't live up to his lineage." I say gently. "I know that he's sensitive and longs to be a force for creation rather than destruction." I grip her hand tighter. "And I know that he's harboring some very deep and tender feelings for…me."

She looks at me in awe. "You knew how he felt about you, and you still walked away?"

I nodded. "He's still far too confused about himself and his place in all of this. I can't help him figure those things out… only he can do that." I let go of her. "If I had stayed I would have hindered his growth and development to the detriment of not just he and I, but to the detriment of the entire galaxy as well."

Tears leak from her shining eyes. "You're an amazing young woman, Rey." Her hand reached out and squeezed mine. "I'm glad that you'll be my daughter someday... and not just because it means I'll have my son back."

I was flabbergasted… I didn't know how to respond to that, but Leia saved me from saying anything stupid or sappy by throwing her arms around me and squeezing me so hard I thought my bones might break. "Thank you." She sobs into my ear. "Thank you for being you."

I know that isn't meant for *me* but I can't help being incredibly touched by her words. Nobody has ever said anything so wonderful to *me*.

For a moment I allow myself to imagine those words are mine to keep and I suddenly find myself clinging to Leia, bawling my eyes out. 

After what seemed like a long time we stopped blubbering all over each other and she pulled back to gift me with a dazzling smile. "Come on, let's go join the others. We have work to do."

I nod, not trusting my voice and follow her out of the ship and into the bright sunshine on a planet I don't recognize.

"Where are we?" I ask as we cross a narrow expanse of lawn towards a stately mansion sitting amidst a beautiful garden.

"The last place my son would ever think to look for us." She smiled. "This is where Han and I raised him."

"This is your home?" I can't help feeling intimidated by the place, it looks like the Biltmore Estate only somehow more majestic.

"It was," She eyes the place, a shadow in her eyes despite the bright sunlight. "A long time ago."

*No wonder Ben Solo was such a spoiled snob.* I think. *It's hard to be a normal everyday person when you grow up in a palace.*

The inside is even more impressive than the outside and I become even more hyper-aware of how out of place I am here. 

Like Rey, I grew up poor. I've never been inside a building this huge that wasn't a school or hospital.

"You can get freshened up in here, we'll have dinner in an hour or two." Leia said, ushering me into a room on the second floor. "Some of my old things are in the closet, feel free to wear anything you like."

I thank her and head for the in suite bathroom. I always pee immediately after waking up and holding it this long was very uncomfortable. I step through the doorway and freeze. 

The tub is bigger than my whole bedroom at home. I decide on the spot that I'm not leaving this room until my fingers are pruney. That tub is way too beautiful and tempting to pass up.

Minutes later I was lying in the tub, up to my neck in hot bubbles that smelled like heaven when a thought struck me… What if the mind bridge were to open up while I was inside of Rey? While I was floating in these bubbles and day dreaming about never having to get out of this heavenly pool?

After that thought I knew I had to be more careful so with reluctance I let the water out and toweled off. It wouldn't be fair to my space babies if I caused such a scene to happen. No, if the bridge opened I'd have to strive to keep things ambiguous between them until after the final film. Damnit.

I wrapped the blanket sized towel around my borrowed body and went to rifle through Leia's 'old clothes.'

A sparkling waterfall of white silk caught my attention and I pulled it out, gasping. It was *the* white dress. The one we first meet Leia in. It's lower half still slightly discolored from it's time in the garbage masher. I returned it to the closet with all the reverential care of an archeologist handling an ancient manuscript. My inner geek was spazzing out so hard I didn't realize at first that I was no longer alone.

"Rey." Came a slightly breathless, exceedingly gentle voice from behind me.

I spun around, clutching the towel over Rey's bosom.

*Oh, God! It's him!*

A line formed between his brows as his eyes sharpened on mine. He stepped closer, staring at me intensely. For a long time he said nothing, just stared at me while a jumble of emotions, some encouraging, some frightening, emanated from him with an intensity I've never personally experienced before.

I felt the heat of his anger dissipate only to be replaced by confusion... and disbelief.

He stepped back a pace. "What's going on here?"

"I…" *oh, hell, what do I say?* "I just got out of the bath." That seemed safe enough.

His frown turned into a full blown scowel. "You did?" The way he stressed the word 'you' nearly stopped my heart. 

"I did." I replied, emphasizing the word 'I' as he had done with 'you.'

"And who exactly are *you*?" He asked in a deceptively calm voice. 

Real fear gripped my insides like a vice. The feelings coming off of him were anything but calm. He felt about half a second from murdering me.

*Oh, shit! Shit. Shit. Shit. What do I do?*

I've never been in this position before. Nobody has ever suspected that I wasn't who they saw me as. Not Han, not Jean-Luc, not Riker… not even Worf. 

"Answer me." He said, danger engulfing every fiber of his being and dripping from his voice.

"Rey." I said but I knew immediately that he wasn't buying it.

"Try again." He took an ominous step forward.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." I said quickly taking a step back.

"Try me." He said stepping forward again.

I consider trying to convince him that I'm Rey, but I dismiss that desperate hope as soon as it rears it's ugly head. "I'm a person from an alternate reality who inhabits the physical body of people I dream about."

He looks amused. "Why would a 'person from an alternate reality' be dreaming about Rey?"

"For the same reason you dream about her." I grin. "Because I love her… though not in the same way you do."

His amusement fades immediately and a thunderstruck expression crosses his features as shock ripples out from him.

"I don't…" he stopped, his face turning bright red.

"Bullshit." I say with more bravado than I'm feeling. "She might be too young and inexperienced to see it, but I'm twice her age and a thousand times her experience... you're ridiculously in love with her."

He stands there, trembling, swallowing convulsively with his mouth doing that 'intense emotion being restrained' thing and I can see him coming to terms with this truthbomb I've lobbed at him.

His eye twitches and he opens his mouth to speak but I cut him off. "And she feels exactly the same way about you."

His mouth snaps shut so hard I can hear his teeth clack together. 

"How is this possible?" He asks softly.

"I quit asking that question years ago." I shake my head. "It doesn't really matter anyway. It just happens."

"How do you know we even exist if you're from an alternate reality?" He narrows his eyes at me.

"In my reality this reality is a movie." Seeing his incomprehension I ask. "You have entertainment Holovids here, yes?" He nods. "A movie is basically the same thing."

He chews on his lip for a moment. "So you've seen how things turn out for Rey and I?"

"No… but I saw you fall in love." 

He cocked his head slightly. 

"Your story is so complex it's taking three movies to tell… the third movie hasn't been made yet."

"Hmm." He says too casually then shakes his head. "I don't believe you."

"I told you so." I shrugged.

"Rey." He said the name as a statement all it's own. "I am sorry that I didn't realize how much your rebel friends meant to you."

*Grrrr* I want to bash him on the head with a nearby table, but I hold onto my frustration. I'm not the one he needs to be saying that to.

"Say that to me again when I'm not acting so strangely." I insist. "It could make all the difference in the galaxy."

He steps closer, his eyes smoldering, his intent clear.

My legs turn to jelly. I begin to lean towards him then suddenly remember my more honorable intentions. I step backwards, bracing my hands against his chest with all the physical strength in Rey's body. God his chest feels like it's made of stone. 

My distraction is fleeting but long enough for him to grab my wrists and pull my arms straight out to the sides, effectively pulling me against him.

"No!" I choke out, unable to pull my gaze from his. "Not like this!" I plead but his face continues to descend toward me. "Please, Ben…" I swallow to clear the huskiness from my voice. "Not from across the stars."

He pauses, our noses a hair's breadth from touching. His eyes flick back and forth between each of mine, searchingly for a moment before he releases his grip on my wrists and pulls far enough back for us to lock eyes without me craining my neck. "Where are you?"

"I'm with the Resistance." I say evasively.

"Come to me." It isn't an order, but it isn't a request either.

"Leia needs me." I say. "She's not doing well."

He steps back, shock clear in his posture, face and energy. "She survived?"

"Barely." I say with genuine sadness. "I fear she wont be with us much longer."

His emotions snarled into a tangled mess that I could not begin to comprehend. "It's for the best." He says callously.

*Ahhh, there's the stupid prick I've come to love.* I think to myself.

"You are a real piece of work, Ben Solo." I growl at him, seizing on the chance to restore the rift between he and Rey. "And you can damned well forget about me ever forgiving you for saying that! Leia and the Resistance she built mean everything to me! If you can't accept that, then I can't accept you!"

He scowled at me in a way that made my ovaries nearly burst. "What is so great about the kriffing Resistance? They are a bunch of terrorists with no reguard for peace or prosperity!"

"You're dead wrong." I argue vehemently. "They care only about those things! It's you! The First Order who cares nothing about peace or prosperity! All you love is power!"

"You know better than that!" He growls and grabs my bicepts with bruising fingers. He moves to kiss me and I panic, instinct kicks in and I knee him in the groin before the thought even crosses my mind.

He drops to his knees, holding himself and groaning before quickly disappearing.

"Fuck!" I spit out, now more pissed at myself than him. How can he and Rey possibly patch this mess up? I've ruined everything!

*****

I jerk awake and sit bolt upright in bed with a gasp.

My alarm is wailing like a siren so I slap the off button and lower my face into my hands, bursting into tears. "What have I done?" I moan over and over as I cry my heart out.


	2. Sweet Dreams

My whole day was off.

After last night's dream all I could think about was the mess I'd made in a galaxy far far away. I wonder if it will affect how J.J. finishes the trilogy if I don't fix my fuck up, stat.

After catching myself nearly giving one of the customers, at the store I work for, change for a fifty instead of a five, my third such near miss in my first three hours at work, I decide to spend my lunch half hour running to Wal-Mart to pick up a copy of The Last Jedi on DVD. I have to clean up my mess, I can NOT be responsible for sinking my favorite ship.

I make minimum wage, so I can't justify the extra cash for a Bluray and a slew of special features I would never watch anyway... the DVD was already cutting into my food budget for the week deeply enough to hurt.

I count the minutes until I can flee from the tiny confines of the mom and pop grocery store I work in and settle in for an evening of Reylo thirst gratification playing on a loop until bedtime.

The ancient time-clock ticks out the final seconds of my workday in super slow-motion just to piss me off, but finally I'm free to clock out. I break several traffic laws on my way home but arrive in one piece just five minutes after I clocked out. I dash inside, cradling my newest prized possession against my pounding heart.

I don't bother with my usual after work shower and change, I head straight to my television and load my nearly decade old DVD player with the brand new disc.

My impatience with the absurdly long FBI warning page that I cannot skip past can't be overstated. But eventually the opening scroll begins and I reach an almost orgasmic state of nerdvana as I read it out loud in my best and most dramatic 'voice over narration' voice.

After a few moments I'm tempted to just skip to the Reylo scenes, but I stop myself… I need to pick up as many story details as possible… for research. Yeah, research. Definitely not because I'm a total Star Wars-aholic...

I squeal with delight when the first mind bridge scene begins to play, but quickly remind myself that I need to pay attention to how Rey talks to Kylo, how she looks at him, everything about her. I have to be more like Rey in his presence if I'm going to steer this ship toward a calm harbor. But damnit, he's so fine it's hard to concentrate on her. Especially with the flood of sensations of being about two centimeters from being kissed by him jumping to the forefront of my mind everytime I look at those luscious lips.

Focus! I have to focus! I can think about jumping his bones *after* I set things right and watch the third film. Dear God, two fucking years? I hope like hell I have enough willpower for the long wait… 

I mean, they both deserve to be fully present their first time together, right? I feel slightly sleazy at even the thought of ruining that for them. The same goes for their first kiss. What I do in my dreams, in an alternate reality, is bad enough when the couple has been well established. I will not sink to such a depraved level that I would deprive either of them of their firsties… I hope.

Half way through my third viewing of my new DVD my eyes started to droop but I forced myself to stay awake until the end before slogging off to my lonely albiet comfortable bed.

I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

*****

I wake up to bright sunshine streaming through tall uncurtained windows and know instantly that I'm in Rey's body again. My own bedroom is blacked out thanks to a poorly placed streetlight just outside of my one lonely window.

I grin and sit up, eager to explore the castle and take in all of the unwritten details of the Solo's homelife. All of my Han and Leia dreams had been set during the period before Leia had become pregnant, to my knowledge. Most were aboard the Millenium Falcon or on some strange planet amidst an adventure that I never knew or cared about the details of.

I hope to see Ben today, but I wont be too upset if I don't. There is plenty here to fascinate me without him… for now.

I take care of my morning business and dress hastily for a day of spelunking through the cavernous rooms of the Solo's once happy home. 

After an hour of searching for clues about the family that used to live here I had to stop for food to quiet Rey's rumbly tummy. I can't neglect her needs like I do my own, I was only borrowing her body and it wouldn't do to leave it in worse shape than I'd found it.

I set off in search of food and it wasn't long until I found my way to the dining room… the noise of a few dozen rebels at breakfast was hard to miss even in a place this large.

"Rey!" Poe called, motioning me over to where he sat with an exhausted looking Finn and a smiling, bright eyed Leia.

I smile and stroll over to the far end of the room to join the real, alternate-reality versions of the main stars of my new favorite movies. 

"Good morning!" I say brightly before turning to Finn and asking, "How is Rose doing this morning?"

He shakes his head tiredly, sadness and anxiety pulsing through the Force around him. "No change." He said in a dejected tone.

"She will recover." I assure him. "She's strong and determined."

He nods firmly and says, "I know." And I can't help smiling when my mind flashes back to the scene in Empire when Han said those words to Leia.

"Good." I reach over and squeeze his hand before turning my attention at last to the food heaped in serving dishes along the center of the ridiculously long table. "So I guess I just…" I motion toward the food.

Leia smiles and says, "Help yourself."

I hate to admit it but in my real life I am quite, er, rotund. I substitute food for all of missing pieces and pleasures in my life. And I'm almost ashamed to admit that I threw my inner fat chick at every bit of food I could reach. 

When I'd finished my third heaping plate of eggs, toast and whatever that bacon-like pale blue meat was I caught the others staring at me in disbelief.

Poe was grinning from ear to ear when he said, "If you fight with half the gusto that you eat, I can see how you were able to kick Kylo's butt so handily."

My face heats up and I know I'm blushing beet red. "Sorry," I say, thoroughly embarrassed.

"Don't be!" He said with a slight shake of his head and his grin firmly in place. "It's impressive!"

*Oh, God.* I think. *I have to be more careful if I'm ever here at meal time again.*

"I've never seen so much food before." I say lamely, though it's actually true.

"Poe, stop flirting. She's only interested in the food." Leia scolds good-naturedly.

I blush harder at Leia's words and excuse myself from the table amidst Poe's protest over them.

*Holy shit! Poe Frickin' Dameron was really just flirting with me!* 

I practically run from the room in my haste to escape from the one guy I'd personally be willing to forswear even Ben Solo for. I am so not at liberty to indulge that fantasy while inside of Rey.

Outside of the dining room I do break into a full on sprint, eager to get back to my explorations.

In about my twentieth room of the day I finally find what I'm looking for… photographs of the Solos through the years.

The room is monsterously huge by my standards, easily six or seven hundred square feet, but sparsely furnished. Every available horizontal surface is covered in framed photos, the walls are hung with lifesized portraits. Han, Leia, Ben and Luke stare back at me from their frames, some stills, some gif style short clips. 

I see a picture of Baby Ben clasped in his mother's arms, his tiny head full of pitch black hair barely visible amidst the blankets, Leia smiling like the happiest woman alive as she looks down at him, Han grinning like the luckiest fool in the galaxy at the pair of them. 

They were so happy!

I pick the photo up and stare at it. This is exactly the type of stuff nerds like me live for, yet the image fills me with sadness. *How can such a joyful start end up becoming such an unmitigate disaster?* I wonder. 

I become aware of the fact that I am no longer alone the instant he appears though he is behind me.

I set the photo down and turn to face a very very grown up Ben Solo.

For a moment neither of us speaks. 

Finally, he speaks. "Don't ever do that to me again."

"Don't ever try to kiss me in anger again." I retort.

I can feel his emotions churning and I have to repress a smile at the quick burst of pride that flashes through him at my words.

His lips twitch and I can tell he's holding back a smile of his own. "I wont." He says and it sounds like a promise.

Neither of us speaks again for several long moments. We both stand motionless, staring at each other from an arm's length away.

I can feel that he wants to say something but I really don't know what that might be so I wait silently.

My eyes drift over his face and I'm slightly befuddled at how much he doesn't really look like Adam Driver. I mean, of course, in real life he is a character played by Adam, but somehow the character and the actor don't seem to really look alike to me. Maybe it's because I know that Adam isn't really inside Ben right now, or maybe it's movie magic, but I cannot, for the life of me, look at Ben "Kylo Ren" Solo and see Adam Driver… not even when I watch the DVD.

"You're confused." He says softly. "Why?"

"I'm confused?" I say more sharply than I intended. "You don't even know who you are."

He glowers at me, "And you do?" He scoffs. "You claim to be a person from an alternate reality and I'm the one who doesn't know who I am?"

So frustrating! 

"Maybe neither of knows who we really are." I conceed grudgingly.

He frowns at me for a moment before asking, "Well, you know both of my names, may I know both of yours?"

Why does he have to be so damn polite at the most unexpected times?

"My name is Tracy, but many people know me as Raynebow." I answer then spell both.

"Raynebow." He repetes. "I like it."

My face heats up.

"But you know, putting 'Ray' so promenantly at the beginning of both of your made up names kind of negates the point of making up a new name." He says with a teasing gleam in his eyes and a grin tugging at his lips.

Oh, sweet Jesus! That's fucking insane. I had never even thought about that until he said it… now I can't seem to stop thinking about it... it's kind of freaking me out, and not in a good way.

"So," I change the subject because I have zero idea how to respond to that. "Do you think Snoke was lying about bridging our minds? I ask because… he's dead and we're still connecting."

"I don't know." He says and I can feel that he's being completely honest. "I've been searching through the archives to see if it's even possible, but so far I haven't discovered any indication that it is."

The easy commraderie forming between us suddenly shifts gears as his emotions begin to churn. "Rey," he says gently. "Whether he did or didn't doesn't matter. The Force is connecting us now."

I can't argue with that, I hold the same belief. But I do need to spark an arguement, I'm sure my space babies aren't going to make up off-screen and start Episode IX all lovey-dovey... and I've already been here for several hours. And there is no guarantee that I'll be back.

"That doesn't matter either. We are incompatible." I shrug, using my own ability to compartmentalize my more painful feelings to make him think I could not possibly care less about that.

His pain hits me like a tidal wave and I feel like such a bitch. "We aren't." He insists.

"We are." I say stubbornly. "Neither of us even knows who we are. But we both know we're enemies." I'll weep about this later, but for now I have a job to do. "You're First Order, I'm Resistance. You're darkness, I'm light. You're an evil murderer, I'm a Jedi. We were not meant to be compatible." The finality in my voice is convincing enough to set his emotions to boiling. "Not even the Force can change what we are, so it doesn't matter who we are."

In this moment I finally understand why tough love is such a rare thing in the world. My every instinct, not to mention my sense of basic human decency, is driving me to recant my cruel words... to throw myself at his feet and beg his forgiveness. 

I can feel how deeply I've wounded him. His anguish is nearly a corporeal thing, a wounded beast, standing between us. 

His expression becomes as unreadable as a blank page despite the roil of emotions sending the Force around him into utter chaos. It's a testiment to the power of his feelings for Rey that he doesn't lash out at me like the wounded beast he is. I would feel better if he would, but instead of the hurricane force blast of anger I expected he seems to shrink into himself, to recoil as if I'd delivered a fatal blow.

"Ben…" I want to apologize, to beg his forgiveness, to tell him I didn't mean it, that Rey doesn't feel that way at all. But he doesn't let me.

"Don't." His voice is tight and harsh but quiet enough to nearly qualify as a sob. In an instant he's gone.

*****  
I awake calling his name into the darkness of my bedroom then promptly burst into wracking sobs that last far too long.

I hate myself worse than fanboys and antis hate The Last Jedi and Kylo Ren.

I hate me for hurting the vulnerable, loving man who's finally reaching out to another human being. I hate me for breaking his heart all over again. I hate me for my harsh words. I hate me far more than you ever could, dear reader. 

Ben deserves so much better than that. Better than me. He deserves Rey. And that's why I had to harsh him like that.

I only hope the seeds of change were planted firmly in all that bullshit I threw at him.

I trust the Ben Solo is smart enough to realize that Rey will never have him until he renounces evil entirely… and I hope that he'll think it was all his idea.

But I still hate myself for implanting those seeds into his skull with a sledgehammer… no matter how good my intentions... or how thick his skull.

Thankfully I have the day off of work. I spend it wallowing in guilt and misery. I debate the merits of destroying my TLJ DVD, in the end I decide to keep it but to never play it again unless absolutely necessary.

Real Rey is going to have her hands full the next time they meet, so I figure it's best if I don't go back to a galaxy far far away…

My decision made I reach for my favorite 'pick me up' disc… The Princess Bride… and spend the rest of the day watching light hearted romantic films, hoping to dream of anything but Reylo.

Off and on through the interminable hours of syrupy romances I'm pulled up short with anxiety over what I've done to Ben. 

Finally, as I lay drifting off to sleep I realize something so startling that I nearly jump straight off the bed. I've never been anything close to this deeply invested or emotionally strung out in my life… not even over real men that I've had real relationships with. 

The shock of it all kept me staring toward the ceiling for a few more hours, wide awake and very conflicted.


	3. Sweet Dreams

Work the following day sucked on less than four hours of dreamless yet restless sleep. My boss sent me home after lunch when she noticed me dozing behind the register. She was more worried than upset so at least I wouldn't be pounding the pavement tomorrow looking for another job. That was the only good news I can identify from a day spent making more mistakes than I care to count.

I drove home in a daze and went straight to bed, shoes and all.

*****

I awoke in darkness and almost thought I was at home. Almost. But my tiny little bedroom always felt oppressive and carried a warm lived-in scent, not so this room. This room feels and smells as fresh as the breeze drifting through it carrying a light aroma of flowers.

I sit up and look around, half expecting to see Ben Solo nearby despite the fact that I can't feel him nearby. I sit there expectantly for several minutes, waiting for him to show up. When sunlight starts to paint the sky in a riot of pinks, blues, oranges and purples I rise, somewhat disappointed that he hadn't shown up in the hour I'd been waiting. Even if all we did was fight I still relished every moment spent with him.

I changed out of the ridiculously alluring floor length silk night gown I found myself wearing, into Rey's neatly folded outfit. The same outfit she'd been wearing when she shipped herself to Ben. 

I look at myself in the bathroom mirror and nearly nerdgasm. It's crazy how I'm looking at a mirror and seeing elevator/throneroom Rey looking back at me. I can't resist the urge to reinact the cave scene finger snap and mirror touch bits. 

Like the geek I am I stand there and make faces at myself for far longer than I, a post 35 year old adult, should ever admit to. 

When I grew bored with that I wandered down to breakfast and joined Leia, Finn and Poe on the far side of the room.

"Good morning!" I say with more cheer than I'm feeling as I pull my chair out and sit down.

Poe grinned broadly and offered me the serving plate of blue bacon. "You're welcome to the whole thing, we got here early." He was obviously joking but it still made me feel ashamed of my previous breakfast apetite.

I put a sensible portion of bacon on my plate and thanked Poe for offering it to me. It wasn't easy but I controlled myself throughout the meal, declining seconds firmly but politely.

When the meal broke up I wandered back to the room with all of the photos and picked up the one with Baby Ben, Loving Leia and Lucky Han that I had stared at before. I don't know why but the photo called out to me and made me feel so happy yet so sad at the same time.

"That is a still from Threepio's recording of the day Ben was born." Leia said, startling me so much I nearly dropped the picture.

I spin around to see her standing not five away, slightly to my right and nearly behind me.

"You both look so proud and happy." I say, my fingers caressing the faces in the photo.

"We were." She smiles. "And scared half to death."

"Scared?" I frown. "Of Ben?"

"Of being parents to such a perfect little being." She says then slumps a little in dejection. "Scared that we'd fail him. That he'd suffer for having us as parents." She sighs hugely. "Justified fears, it turns out."

I don't know what to say about that, heavy emotional baggage is something I steer clear of at all costs, but I have to say something. "The Force works in mysterious ways." I say lamely.

She lets out a snort of laughter.

"No, I mean it." I insist. "The Jedi thought that Anakin Skywalker was the chosen one. Meant to bring peace to the galaxy and balance to the Force. They were wrong. Anakin couldn't balance the Force. He couldn't walk with one foot in datkness and one in light." It's a popular theory that I concluded for myself before going online to find that I wadn't alone in having done so. "Ben can." I tell her forcefully. "He has been doing it his whole life. Sometimes he strays too far one way or the other, but once he finds his equillibrium he will fulfill all of Anakin's wasted potential. I've seen it with my own eyes. Aboard the Supremacy. He was weilding both sides simultaniously... and he was incredible to watch."

Leia frowned. "You fought him aboard Snoke's ship?"

Oh Christ, Rey hadn't told her.

"I fought *with* him in Snoke's throne room." I say pointedly. "After he murdered Snoke... Snoke's guards came for us both."

"Ben killed Snoke?" Leia's brows shot up nearly to her hairline.

I nod solemnly.

"My son, Ben? Tall guy, black hair - my eyes?"

I laugh a little at her joke. "And your jawline and lips too."

She blinked back tears and rasped, "Tell me everything. Please."

*So that's where he gets his unexpected bouts of polite manners from.* I think to myself.

I start at the beginning of Rey and Kylo's acquaintance and give her the Reylo's version of TFA and TLJ.

She listens quietly, hanging on every word, and when I'm finished she smiles ruefully. "He may look like me, but he expresses himself like Han." She chuckles. "Which is to say: very poorly."

"It took me a while to realize that." I agree. "But once I caught on I realized something rather profound that changed my opinion of him entirely."

"And what is that?" Leia presses eagerly.

"That he didn't kill his father because he hated him. He killed Han because he loved him. Because Snoke convinced your son that love is a terrible weakness that has to be destroyed at all costs." I shake my head to clear it then look at Leia. "But he couldn't kill you. And he wouldn't kill me... He learned how big of a lie Snoke had told him about love when he killed Han. His idol. His hero. His dad... He knows now how powerful the light of love is. It allowed him to free himself from Snoke. It empowered him to take a stand against the msster who had tricked, manipulated and abused him for years."

Leia was weeping unashamedly by this point so I closed off my on the spot meta by saying' "if Ben hadn't learned to harness and control both sides of the Force there is no way he'd be able to fulfill his destiny. You didn't fail your little boy." I hand her the photograph. "The Force chose him and saw to it that he learn the things he needed to know… the bad and the good. The dark and the light. True love and true hatred."

She doesn't say anything for a moment, just stares at me in awe. I feel a bit ashamed for taking all the credit for what is actually a group effort theory created by hundreds of diehard Reylos… but she'd never believe me if I explained to her the technicalities of how I arrived at those conclusions.

Finally she throws her arms around me and thanks me repetedly for saving her son.

"I haven't saved him." I protest.

"You gave him the tools and desire to save himself, which is the same thing in my book." She grins, wiping tears of joy from her cheeks. "Like Han, he'll have to try all the wrong ways first, but now I know he'll find the right path. Forget about someday, you're my daughter from now on. And because of you, we'll get to let Ben know that sometime pretty soon."

I throw my arms around Leia and we hold each other tightly for so long my heart nearly bursts from such an intense case of the feels.

*****

I wake up in my own bed still brimming with ellation from my day spent with Leia. My own parents are both dead and have been for quite some time. It feels great to have a mother figure in my life, even if she is just temporarily on loan to me in my dreams.

Every night for a week I continue to wake up and spend the day with Leia and every minute I spend with her my conscience gnaws on me a little bit harder for the things I've done from inside her body… with her man.

Until…

*****

I gape at Leia in utter shock. "Can you… say that again, please?" I can't believe that I heard her correctly. No way. No how.

"It's true. Whenever things got a little stale between us I'd pretend like I had another woman in my head, helping me to figure out how to spice things up. I thought of her as a Rainbow colored sex goddess who I could just turn the controls over to while I sat back and enjoyed every minute of having her show Han and I both what pleasures our bodies were capable of... we called her 'Rainbow'." She grins at me mischieviously.

My mind goes blank. Huh? That's not possible….

"I'd ask him or he'd ask me if the other had seen a rainbow lately… it was our code for 'let's go wild tonight'."

I stare at her, my mind frozen in a tornado of questions too plentiful and fast moving to be able to seize any single one to spit out of my mouth.

I was their kink night assistant? Leia *wanted* me there all those nights? She was awake and aware the whole time? She thought of me as her sex kitten alter ego?

THAT'S TOO FUCKING COOL! I almost spazz out right then and there.

Leia started laughing so hard I'm shocked she didn't pass out from lack of oxygen. "You should see your face!" She managed between guffaws. 

I can imagine the look on my face. After all, she just dropped a bomb on me that I was wholey unprepaired for.

The people I inhabit are still in their own mind/body with me? I begin to blush furiously at that thought. 

Oh, dear… the things I've done in my dreams… in other women's bodies… and they were along for the ride the whole time….

The time Worf and I landed Deanna in sickbay for three days…. With plenty of bruises, a few dislocated joints, one broken collarbone and a grin that lasted a week…

The three hours of back to back to back orgasms I'd had with Han while inhabiting Leia just after Endor...

Holy shit! 

*****

I am shook so badly I wake up in my own bed shivering.

I jump up and run to the livingroom where I promptly freak out and destroy my brand new DVD of The Last Jedi.

"Fuck that!" I yell as I jerk open the door and throw the jagged pieces onto my front lawn. 

I slam the door behind me and say, "Hell to the fuck no! Never again!"

This shit just got real!

Leia summoned me to boost her love life? What the everlasting fuck? I'm a real person. I really exist! She's a character in a movie! She does not exist! How the fuck can she summon me?

Wait… did they all summon me?

Did Rey summon me? To improve her love life? 

What am I? Am I some sort of kinky cupid in the alternate realities of my dreams? Realities that are so real my left hip still pops out of place from time to time in real life from a particularly rowdy bout with Worf?

I cannot handle the existential crisis I'm experiencing right now, but I have no choice… it is upon me.

I take a few deep breaths to try to calm myself. It doesn't work very well. I'm completely freaked out right now.

I call my friendly neighborhood pot dealer.

"I got zero cash, but could you trade me a dime bag for some DVDs?" I ask, still freaking out and determined to never watch another movie.

"Are you ok? You sound really upset." She asks me, her voice full of concern. Yeah, it helps to have friends who dabble in weed.

"I'm freaking out! I can't talk about it! But I'm desperate, please trade me for some movies!" I sound completely unhinged and I know it.

"I'll be right there." She promises then hangs up.

Two minutes later Joshica, my neighbor, friend and friendly neighborhood pot dealer taps on my door then lets herself in. She takes one look at me and pulls a joint out from behind her ear then lights it and passes it to me. "You're a trainwreck." She said after handing me back the joint a couple of times.

"Just a minor nervous break down." I say, attempting humor.

"You kid, but I don't think you're far off from the truth." She says, waving the joint away when I try to hand it back to her. "Smoke it, I'm good."

"You sure?" I ask, mildly surprised.

"Yeah I just got done toking a bowl right before you called." She shrugs.

I thank her and toke away until I feel myself starting to uncoil from the knots I'd tied myself into.

I stub out a nice portion of the potent cigarette and offer it back to her.

"Keep it." She waves me off again. "You might need it later.

"Pick you out some movies." I tell her, gesturing to my movie shelf. "Anything you want."

"Nah, consider this as that one time I got to say thanks for feeding me when I didn't have anything to eat one of the many times I came bumming." She hugs me and adds, teadingly: "Since you get all embarrassed when I say 'you're my hero'."

I blush and stammer an inadequate 'thank you'."

"Yeah, like that." She grins.

I can't help it, I don't know how to handle having people say nice things to me. I've always been the object of scorn, pity, or obscurity in most people's eyes. It comes from being short and way overweight, with a lazy eye and bucked teeth my whole life... and the bullying and abuse by my peers that go hand in hand with being so far from perfect.

After a minute or two she asks, "So, do you wanna talk about it?"

"Nope." I answer. "I don't even want to think about it."

"Fair enough." She says and then launches into a detailed accounting of her latest dating drama. I listen as best I can with my mind melted down by my conversation with Leia.


	4. Chapter 4

A month passes without my having anymore Star Wars dreams and I begin to wonder how Rey is doing, has she seen Ben at all? If so, how did *that* go?

I know it's a dangerous game, letting myself think about my Space Babies… I could induce another dream just by thinking about them too hard… but I love them and I miss them. I sneak onto my tumblr account and scroll through my dashboard eagerly for Reylo posts. I am richly rewarded. Gorgeous fan art and gripping fanfics abound on my dash… in moments I'm in so deep I don't come up for air for 8 solid hours… hours I was supposed to have spent sleeping.

Well, at least I don't have to work today, I tell myself as I stretch out in my bed and read what is quite possibly the most gripping Reylo fanfic I've ever chanced upon… 

I don't know at what point I fell asleep, but when I open my eyes I am dreaming.

*****

My heart is pounding in my chest, thundering in my ears and lodged in my throat simultaneously as he stares at me with baited breath. My arms are wrapped around his neck, my front plastered to his, my fingers tangled in the heavy silk of his ebony hair.

I don't know if they just finished kissing or were just about to kiss… 

*Fuck it, I don't care anymore, Rey summoned me here and she's not going to miss a thing.*

The force around them was a kaleidescope of hunger, need, passion, joy, thirst, and… uncertainty. My uncertainty, I realize.

"Ben?" I breathe his name out like it's made of smoke. 

He inhales sharply and his deathgrip on me loosens ever so slightly.

"I'm sorry I hurt you." I say and watch his heavy lidded gaze widen a fraction as I close the last few centimeters between our lips then my lids slide closed and I kiss him with every bit of the pent up desire in Rey's body.

I can tell right away that he has no clue what to do with those sexy lips of his outside of sneering or talking. 

*Oh, God... never kissed a girl, 30 year old space prince virgin is absolutely true.*

I take his face gently between my palms and slow the kiss down, taking control of it, teasing his lips with mine. He's a quick study, I soon discover as he begins to mimick my mouth movements… little by little I become more and more daring with my lips and my tongue, becoming more and more aroused as he reciprocates in kind.

This is no movie kiss with lips crushed together, heads waggling in a futile attempt to show passion… no, this is two sets of lips, hardly touching yet fencing nimbley with each other in a gracefull dance as old as time and as new and exciting as a first kiss between two people who've been in love for a very long time but have only now found the courage to act upon it.

I'm in no hurry, I like to take the time to savor every sensation, to try everything, to test boundaries and discover all there is to know about my lover's likes and dislikes… after all, that is what first times are for.

And this is a first for me as well… I've never been someone's first anything before. I feel the weight of that like it's a responsability of utmost importance. It's my priviledge to introduce this man and this woman to the world of carnal delights… because I know she's here and awake and aware.

The intensity of my own arousal takes a backseat to my desire to get this right on the first try.

I can feel how much he's craving more. I can practically hear him shouting the word into my mind like he shouted it aboard his command shuttle while attempting to kill Luke Skywalker with a ridiculous amount of firepower.

I flick my tongue against his lips, once, twice, three times then give his bottom lip a gentle nip. He copies me up until the third lick when I flick my tongue against his and feel a slight startle flicker through him. 

He pulls back to stare at me intensely for a moment. I can feel his confusion as he searches my eyes. "Rey?" He asks, and his tone implies that he doubts it.

*Bleh, this again?*

"Ben?" I ask in much the same tone.

"Why did you kiss me?" He's frowning.

*Huh?*

"One moment you were attacking me and the next you were kissing me… I don't understand." I can feel that he really doesn't.

*Fuck!*

I blink up at him a few times, trying to kick start my brain.

"I'm not complaining… just… confused." He says hessitantly.

*Since when does he admit to being confused? He's acting odd. And his speaking pattern and cadence is off.*

"I, uh…" Then it hits me. "Are you dreaming, right now?"

He looks gobsmacked. "Are you?"

*Holy fucking shit!*

"Who is Donald Trump?" I say, and he flings me away from him.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" He roars. "What the fuck is going on here?"

I look around at our surroundings. We're in a filthy alleyway. Jaunty music is drifting on the wind along with the smell of garbage and fried food.

"Are you in an alley?" I ask, scared half out of my mind.

"Yes." He says, looking at me like I'm a loaded gun.

"So they are physically in the same place." I'm thinking out loud because it's quicker. "But neither of us is them."

"Who *are* you?" He still looks terrified as he asks this.

"Who are *you?*" I demand to know.

He opens his mouth to speak and I jerk awake to the shrill scream of my alarm.

I jump out of my bed and glare at it as if it's the reason my dream was so messed up. 

Of course, I realize it isn't the bed's fault, but I'm completely out of my mind at the moment.

I'm far too close to a total mental collapse to hope to make any sense of this latest developement. But that doesn't stop me from trying. Around and around I walk in a circle comprised of five steps at the foot of my bed, my mind a whirlwind of fragmented thoughts and half formed ideas.

*****

I make it to work twenty minutes late and get fired two hours later for freaking out on a customer who copped an attitude with me over the fact that the store doesn't accept coupons.

I drive home shellshocked by my own actions. I never lose my temper over trivial stuff.

Once inside my tiny little run down, 40 year old trailer I head to my room and down a few Benedryl caplets to help me sleep away the rest of this insane and insanely horrible day without the risk of dreaming.

*****

I open my eyes and realize the Benedryl have failed me. I'm dreaming.

I'm in a darkened room with three large windows that stare out into open space, sterile air and black walls, floor, ceiling and furnishings. I'm lying on my back on a hard bed, covered by a black blanket.

I sit up slowly, a bit groggy from the drugs.

"Rey?"

"Oh, God, please, I don't want to do this anymore." I moan.

"Not Rey." He says lightly.

"Not Ben." I say grumpily.

"Actually, my name *is* Ben." He says, lowering himself on the edge of the bed facing me.

"Solo?" 

He chuckles, "I wish. It would be pretty cool to be a Jedi and rule the galaxy."

"I thought so, too." I yawn then add, "once upon a time."

"Until you met me?" He says and I can't tell if he's joking or seriously asking that. I can't feel the Force. It's like Rey isn't here at all.

"I don't think this counts as meeting." I say.

"Why not? We're talking aren't we? I told you my name, what is yours?" He cocks his head a little.

"Call me Rayne." I say uncaringly.

"Rayne?" He looks intrigued.

"As in Raynebow. R-a-y-n-e-b-o-w." I spell it out for him.

He gapes at me. "Do the words 'Have you seen a rainbow lately' mean anything to you?"

"Oh, God!" I can't handle this right now. "Please, make it stop. I want off this fucked up ride."

"I'll take that as a yes." He says almost happily. "Which means, we've done a lot more than just meet before."

"I don't know you. I don't want to know you. Don't talk to me about seeing rainbows." I lay down and close my eyes, hoping to wake up in my own bed.

He laughs. "What is it about you Americans and being so charmingly, obtusely, dramatic?"

"I'm literally speaking with a british accent, what makes you think I'm an American?" I grumble, refusing to open my eyes.

"Only an American would bring up Donald Trump in mixed company." He says and I peek at him through my lashes. 

*Yup, he's grinning like a fool.*

"Oh, bugger off!" I tell him, 99% sure he's English, or at least from somewhere in the U.K. Only brits can pack that much contempt into a statement and still sound as friendly as a happy dog.

"Not bad." He is still grinning, I can tell it by his voice. "You almost sounded like a real englishwoman."

I throw the lone pillow beneath my head at him.

"Can I call you?" He asks, setting the pillow aside. "In real life?"

"No... leave me alone." I say.

"I don't want to." He says. "I've been wishing you were real since I was sixteen years old."

"Oh god, how old are you now?" I hate to, but I have to ask.

"I'm thirty-five next week." He replies. "You?"

"Are you seriously asking me that?" I open my eyes to glare at him.

"I guess not." He says sheepishly.

"Let me go to sleep so I can get out of this nightmare." I plead.

"Why is Ben Solo a dream but Ben Coulson a nightmare?" He asks quietly. "I've never killed anyone."

I think about that for a moment before answering.

"Because Ben Solo is fictional. He's safe. He can't break my heart." I didn't want to say that much, but it just popped right out there.

"Ah." He says knowingly. "You don't want a real man, you want a Disney Prince... All fluff and no substance."

"I'd settle for amazing in bed and puts the toilet seat down, if I could be sure a real man wouldn't run away the moment things get tough."

"I do put the toilet seat down." He shrugs. "And we've had some pretty amazing romps together over the years, wouldn't you say?"

I can't argue with that, he's far from wrong.

"Let me call you... I need to hear your voice." He practically begs.

"You don't need to hear my voice, you probably wouldn't understand a word I say anyway." I say.

"Why is that?" He raises one brow at me and I swear I just can't imagine a sexier facial expression existing anywhere in the universe.

"I'm a hillbilly." I admit. "From the back woods."

He grins, "I like U.S. southern accents."

"Naw, you don't understand. Not southern… hillbilly." He's still grinning so I ask. "Have you ever seen the Beverly Hillbillies?"

"Hasn't everyone?" 

"Have you seen Logan Lucky?" I press.

"Yes."

"Ok, imagine if Ellie May Clampett had a kid with Clyde Logan… it would sound a lot like me... I don't even pronounce my own last name right and it's an easy one." I say.

"Oh, now I *really* need to hear you speak." He laughs. "How about if *you* call me? Block your number if it would make you more comfortable."

I consider it. On the one hand he's real… but on the other hand he lives thirty-five hundred miles away... in a different country… not exactly a big threat of having him invade my comfort zone. Dare I dream that he may be as safe as a fictional character?

"Fine, tell me your number 50 times, If I remember it when I wake up, I'll call you."


	5. Chapter 5

I wake up in the darkness of my own bedroom and sigh my relief. Well, thank God that's over! 

Ben had drilled his number into my head so many times that I'll probably remember it until my dying day but I debate the merits of feigning forgetfullness versus being an honest person and with a groan I pick up my cell and dial him up.

He answers on the first ring.

"Rayne?" He says and it almost sounds like 'ran'… yeah, he's definitely not an American living in the U.K. I relax slightly.

"Yeah, it's me." I say reluctantly. "Don't you know you're supposed to wait for the second or third ring so you don't seem desperate?"

He giggles, actually giggles, about that. I can't say I've ever heard a man make that sound before. It's cute as a basket full of fluffy kittens though.

"What's wrong with being desperate though?" He asks and I swear I can hear the grin in his voice.

"Scottish?" I ask instead of answering his question.

"Very good." He says then asks. "But where in Scotland?"

"Glasgow?"

"You looked up my exchange." He accuses with a bark of laughter.

"Nope, just happens to be my all time favorite sexy accent." I say.

"Sexy is it?" He's having way too much fun with this. "I like the sound of that."

I groan.

"And the sound of you. Your accent is amazing." He adds.

"Ok, well… now that your curiousity is satisfied I guess we can hang up." I'm not playing coy, his voice and accent alone are worth swimming across the Atlantic to fuck. If he isn't ugly enough to repel a pack of hungry hyenas he's already a 10 just from how he sounds. In other words, I'm terrified of him and want to get him out of my life immediately.

"No! Talk to me!" He says. "I want to know everything about you."

"I guess that *would* be the easiest way to get rid of you." I say in all seriousness. "Well, besides a video call… that would be easier. Let's do that."

"Really? You want to open a Force-time with me?" He teases.

"Or we could use Skype." I suggest.

Minutes later I'm looking at the man of my dreams and cursing mother nature. He doesn't look like any celebrity I've ever seen, so I can't use one as a comparison. The closest I can get to using a celebrity example is probably Adam Driver in that he's not classicly handsome but is still very compelling and kind of magnetically attractive… in other words definitely a 10... and way out of my league.

"Ok, well… this is me. And that's you… I wont hold it against you for wanting to play cards instead of fuck if we happen across each other in our dreams again... it was nice talking to you." I say and end the call before I have to watch him try to fake not being disappointed by my looks.

A moment later my phone rings and I look at the display… It's him... fuck! I really should have blocked my number. I don't want to talk to him. I don't want to hear his sexy voice trying to lie politely about how I'm 'not that bad' or 'too hard on myself' or any of the other bullshit people say to try to convince us uglies that they don't think we're ugly. I turn the ringer volume off and lay my cell face-down on my bedside table. 

"There. He's gone." I tell myself out loud. "And I'm glad."

It's funny how being glad feels almost exactly the same as being incredibly depressed and on the verge of tears.

It isn't long before I snuggle back into my blanket and cry myself to sleep.

According to my cell phone it's past noon when I wake up again... and I have 15 voice mails, 22 missed calls and 10 text messages… all from Ben. 

I open my text app and sure enough, he's trying to act like he doesn't find me repulsive.

3:22 a.m.   
(011 44 0141 555 4302)  
Rayne? Please answer your phone. It's Ben.

3:25 a.m.  
(011 44 0141 555 4302)  
I really don't understand what's going on. Please talk to me.

3:26 a.m.  
(011 44 0141 555 4302)  
I really really need to talk to you, please answer your phone or text me back.

3:32 a.m.  
(011 44 0141 555 4302)  
I've been calling for half an hour, why aren't you answering me?

3:39 a.m.  
(011 44 0141 555 4302)  
What did you mean about playing cards instead of making love? Am confused. Why wouldn't I want to make love to you?

3:47 a.m.  
(011 44 0141 555 4302)  
Are you ignoring me because you aren't attracted me? I'm sorry I'm not Han/Ben Solo irl...

3:55 a.m.  
(011 44 0141 555 4302)  
Look, I know I'm not Hollywood material, I guess I understand if you don't want me… I just wish you'd do me the courtesy of TELLING me that.

4:15 a.m.  
(011 44 0141 555 4302)  
I'm starting to feel like a creepy stalker, wont you at least tell me to fuck off?

4:22 a.m.  
(011 44 0141 555 4302)  
Nothing? Really? Almost twenty years of sweet dreams spent making love all through the night and you wont even acknowledge my existence? Why? Because I don't look like a Hollywood leading man? You don't exactly look like a Hollywood leading lady either you know. You're cute as hell and all but damn  
(Cont…)

4:22 a.m.  
(011 44 0141 555 4302)  
it, I wouldn't care if you had three eyes and two teeth, you're everything I've ever dreamed of. Every woman I've ever wanted. But if you don't want me because of how I look, maybe I'm better off without you.

"You are." I say out loud. "You're way better off without me." I know this is true, but that doesn't stop it from hurting like hell. "You can do so much better than me."

I set the phone down and grab my trusty bottle of Benedryl. Four or five of those babies and I'm asleep again in no time.

The next time I wake up it's after 8 p.m. according to my phone. I take another round of Benedryl and I'm back to sleep by 9.

*****  
My eyes open to the pale blue light of the predawn hours. I groan. I don't want to be here.

I have no handy sleep aid available in a galaxy far far away though, so I can't escape until the dream releases me.

I snuggle into the soft matress and try to go back to sleep anyway.

My mind immediately turns to Ben. Coulson, not Solo. What if he shows up here? I can't exactly mute my dreams like I can my phone.

Almost as if thinking about him conjured him from thin air, the tall, raven haired figure of Ben Solo appears at the foot of the bed. 

I immediately notice that I can't feel him. I don't have access to the Force... like Rey isn't here again.

"I can't feel the Force." I blurt out, breaking the silence.

"Me neither." He says, mildly surprized.

"So, I guess it's just us then." I state the obvious, because I'm suddenly so nervous I feel the urge to babble.

"I guess so." His voice sounds clipped, like he's angry.

"So…cards?" I don't have a clue where any cards are, I'm just trying to break the ice.

He stares at me with those smoldering Ben Solo eyes and I feel an overwhelming urge to squeeze my eyes shut and cover my head with the blanket.

"No cards." He says after an uncomfortably long silence. "Talk."

"Look, Ben… it isn't you." I say and almost cringe at the trite cliche of those words but in this case they really are true. "It's me. I'm a mess in real life. I'm broke as a joke, fat, ugly, cross-eyed and buck- toothed. I have more than one mental disorder and I drive people away from me even when I'm not trying to. Especially when they are men and I'm not trying to."

"Why didn't you tell me that two days ago when I begged you to talk to me?" He asks quite stiffly.

"Because you're way out of my league. I never expected you to think I thought you were anything less than the sexiest guy on the planet. I am sorry about making you think my behaviour had something to do with your looks… it didn't, you're gorgeous… I just… I'm not. You can do so much better than me." I hope he understood all that because I'm so confused and messed up in the head I can't even make sense of myself.

He relaxes a fraction. "So you aren't running away because you don't find me attractive, you're running away because you do?"

Oh, good, he understood me. "Exactly." I say with real relief.

"Silly woman." He chuckles. "How can I possibly do better than the girl of my dreams?" He walks over and sits down on the bed next to me. "Finding the girl of your dreams is literally the definition of the best any man can do."

That makes me smile involuntarily. "Metaphorically speaking, yes… but we aren't a metaphor… we actually dream about each other… not daydreams and desires, but actual sleeping dreams... I'm not the girl *of* your dreams, I'm just the girl *in* your dreams."

He leans over like he's going to kiss me, his eyes glued to mine. My heart rate triples in two seconds flat.

"No." He says in a low, deep voice that makes my uterus spasm. "You're definitely *of* not just *in* my dreams."

"I'm not." I'm panting and I can feel my face burning so I know I'm flushed. God, I'm such a spaz.

He kisses me then and I'm struck with how familiar yet different this kiss is. It's like his manner of kissing - the mechanics, haven't changed but something - maybe the desire behind it, has.

By the time he pulls back to sear my soul with those burning dark Adam/Kylo/Ben Solo eyes I'm a quivvering mass of incredibly turned on female.

"You are." He rasps. "You're my *of*."

I'm really not sure how it happened but one moment we were kissing fully clothed and the next we were both stark naked. My best guess is that he kissed me stupid enough to not notice I was tearing his clothes off while he did the same to mine. 

When he settled into the cradle of my thighs I was startled by the realization that this was the first time we would ever be doing this on a bed, in the missionary position in the whole 19 years we'd been been doing this... And the first time we'd *know* who we were doing it with. 

"Rayne," He says my name in a shaking voice that nearly caused me to orgasm by itself. "Open your eyes."

I open my eyes and look into his as he slides into me. I've never had sex with my eyes open before, let alone while staring into my lover's eyes. It's unbelievably intimate. Which is why I've never done it. 

"No." He says when I chicken out and close my eyes. "Open them."

I do so only when he stops moving. 

"That's better." He says and plunges into me good and hard, the way I like it.

He pulls out slowly then with a hard flick of his hips he fills me up in an instant. My eyes try to close again but I force them to stay open. I don't want him to stop. Ever.

He leans down and begins to drop short little kisses on my face with each withdrawl.

We've had sex in hundreds of places and just as many ways over the years, but I can honestly say, this is the first time we've ever really made love. 

Later, when we both cum at the same time, looking into each other's eyes, I'm so overwhelmed with the intimacy and the sheer magnitude of what we've done that tears begin to pour out of my eyes.

He rolls us both to our sides and holds me tightly against him. "Come to Glasgow." He says in a voice that is barely above a whisper.

"I can't." I answer at the same volume. "No passport, no money for a ticket."

"Then tell me which airport is closest to you and I'll come to America." He says and kisses me on the forehead.

"Why cross an ocean when all we have to do is close our eyes?" I whisper.

"Because I want to look into *your* eyes while I make love to *you* and wake up with *you* in *my* arms in the morning." He says with his heart in his eyes and I understand him completely because I want the same things.

"Lexington, Kentucky." I say around the lump of emotion in my throat. "Call me when you know your arrival time, I'll be there when you land."


	6. Chapter 6

"Wow," I grin up at Ben, way, way, way up. "You're huge!"

He grins down at me, "You're tiny."

"I'm going to need a ladder just to kiss you." I laugh.

"Nah," he leans down and kisses me, then promises, "I'll come to you."

I kiss him again while he's down here. 

"How tall are you?" I ask as we head for the baggage claim.

"Uhm…" He hessitates. "Six-five."

"Nice." I say, anticipating climbing him like a redwood as soon as we're out of the public eye.

"How short…err…tall are you?" He asks, clearly teasing me.

"I'm five-two." I say.

"Mmmm." He looks a little worried.

"Don't worry, I'm a lot tougher than I am tall." I reassure him.

"You'd have to be." He pulls me against his side and squeezes me gently. "Because you aren't tall at all."

The ride home is the longest fourty-five minutes of my life. We exchange the usual 'getting to know you' questions and answers the whole way to my front door. Once the door closes behind us though…

"You must be tired after such a long trip." I say, not wanting to push him too hard too soon. "And hungry."

"I'm only hungry and tired of waiting *for you*." He says in that incredibly sexy way of his.

I reach for him and he lifts me up until my feet are dangling a foot off the floor. "Me too." I say before he kisses me stupid enough to not notice our clothes falling off again.

***********  
THE END.... of part 1.  
***********


End file.
